


ease my mind, liquify

by internetakeover (nymeriahale)



Series: Advent fics 2016 [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Collars, Established Relationship, Hand Feeding, M/M, Non-Sexual Kink, Puppy Play, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:29:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nymeriahale/pseuds/internetakeover
Summary: “So, this arrived a few days ago,” Phil brings a parcel out from behind his back, still unopened. Dan doesn’t know what it is at first, it’s been so long since they made the order, but once he’s realised that the edge to the excitement on Phil’s face is anticipation things fall into place rather quickly.“Is that what I think it is?” Dan asks eagerly, shutting his laptop and placing it on the coffee table as Phil moves to sit next to him on the sofa.“Depends on what you think it is,” Phil points out, “But yeah, I think so.”~~spoiler alert: it's a collar.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first of four fics I intend to post every Friday - clearly that's started well! - in the build up to Christmas, and is something I actually wrote the vast majority of back in January, so I'm glad to finally get it posted! if you have any questions about the tags please see the end notes.
> 
> title from Ease My Mind by Hayley Kiyoko.

“I ordered pizza,” Phil announces as he walks back into the lounge, as if Dan hadn’t been able to hear him making the order from his bedroom.

“Thanks,” Dan says absently, glances up to send Phil a quick grateful smile, pauses when he sees Phil hovering in the doorway, hands behind his back. Phil looks mostly excited, with some kind of edge, shifting whatever it is behind his back from hand to hand. It’s enough to make Dan sit up a little, give Phil his full attention.

“So, this arrived a few days ago,” Phil brings a parcel out from behind his back, still unopened. Dan doesn’t know what it is at first, it’s been so long since they made the order, but once he’s realised that the edge to the excitement on Phil’s face is anticipation things fall into place rather quickly.

“Is that what I think it is?” Dan asks eagerly, shutting his laptop and placing it on the coffee table as Phil moves to sit next to him on the sofa.

“Depends on what you think it is,” Phil points out, “But yeah, I think so.”

“When did it arrive?” Dan asks, tearing his gaze from the box to look back at Phil.

“A couple of days ago,” Phil tells him, eyes flicking over Dan’s face as though trying to figure out what he’s thinking. Dan’s not sure what he sees, everything in him just seemingly stuck on the contents of the inconspicuous box in Phil’s lap.

“You didn’t open it?” Dan questions, shifting to face Phil more fully, tucking his leg up onto the sofa so his knee rests against Phil’s hip.

“I didn’t want to open it without you, and not when we couldn’t do something about it,” Phil explains, offering the box to Dan.

Dan pushes it back at Phil. “I want you to,” he says simply.

Phil studies his face again, nods, and starts pulling at the parcel tape around the edges of the box.

“So, tonight...,” Dan trails off, making the connection from Phil’s words.

“If that’s okay,” Phil says, and how does he sound unsure when Dan hasn’t been able to look away from the moment he had realised what was going on? “I was thinking pizza, then just a lazy evening,” he goes on, but Dan barely hears him, because Phil’s opened the box and he can see the collar inside, the dull shine of faux leather, and oh, it’s _gorgeous_.

Dan can’t tear his eyes away as Phil pulls the collar out of the box and removes it from the packaging, silver buckle shining a little in the light. The matching D ring on the opposite side glints briefly as Phil sets the collar on his own thigh, and it’s plain, nothing to keep Dan staring the way he is, but he just can’t stop. Just over an inch wide, with the buckle and ring the only things to break up the smooth black finish, it’s perfect. Dan had been impatient, pushing for them to just buy one of the few faux leather collars they’d been able to find online, but now he’s glad Phil had insisted on ordering something custom made. 

“What do you think?” Phil asks, quietly, and Dan looks up to find Phil’s eyes flicking over his face just as he imagines his own had been flicking over the collar.

“Perfect,” Dan says, voice hoarse. “You?” 

“Yeah,” Phil agrees.

Dan reaches out to touch the collar, then retracts his hand, shaking his head as Phil offers it to him. “Put it on me,” he requests.

“Soon,” Phil promises. 

“Oh, right, pizza,” Dan sighs heavily. He supposes he can’t really get in the right headspace if he’s busy stuffing his face, and it might interfere with the usual busy plans of lying by or on Phil and getting petted.

“Actually, I was thinking I could feed you?” Phil proposes.

“Yeah?” They’ve discussed hand feeding before, but somehow not quite gotten around to it. Dan would try to assess the suitability of pizza, but he can’t quite focus around the collar and he’d actually quite like to keep it that way. Besides, he knows Phil will have done all the thinking already. “Yeah,” Dan repeats, confirming, tearing his gaze from the collar back to Phil to do so.

“Are you comfortable like this?” Phil asks.

Dan almost sighs again at having to use his brain when all he’d really like is for it to melt into the buzzy-floating perfection he knows is waiting, but he supposes it’s a good question. He stands to take off his tight jeans, figuring that’ll be answer enough for Phil. Dan leaves them where they fall and smiles at Phil as he goes to retrieve a cushion from the chair to place in the inner corner of the sofa, Dan’s favourite place to nestle - at least at the start of a session, when they’re both still pretending Dan won’t end up half on the sofa, half on Phil’s lap.

Dan halfheartedly kicks his jeans out of the way when Phil returns to place the cushion on the floor, and Phil shakes his head.

“Messy,” Phil comments, and there’s enough of a fond rebuke in his tone to make Dan shiver already. Phil sets the cushions on the floor in the corner of the sofa and Dan folds to his knees onto it immediately, having discarded the need for trousers all together given how warm the room is. He rubs lightly against the coffee table sitting back onto his heels, and Phil pushes it away slightly to give Dan more space without dismantling his secure nook.

“Good?” Phil checks, and Dan just nods, shifting into a slightly more comfortable position and enjoying the warm rub of his jumper against his thighs.

“Sit up for your collar then, pup,” Phil coaxes, settling onto the sofa in front of Dan.

Dan shudders at the first use of the endearment, pushing up off his heels and leaning forward as much as is comfortable, as much as he can without overbalancing, closing his eyes and stretches his neck out in anticipation of the collar settling around it. He quivers a little as he waits, unsure if it’s the strain of the position or pure anticipation for being collared, marked and labelled as Phil’s, being marked as _owned_. 

“Perfect,” Phil says, voice a little choked, and Dan opens an eye to find a surprisingly intense expression on Phil’s face. Their eyes catch for a moment. “Perfect,” Phil repeats, lowly, and Dan has to duck his head, blushing at the intensity of the praise.

“For you,” he says, after swallowing around the lump of emotion in his throat, re-establishing eye contact.

“Good pup,” Phil praises, and it thrills through Dan’s body. 

Dan raises his chin again, unable to stop himself from whining low in his throat, trying to make puppy eyes at Phil.

“Right,” Phil nods, seemingly shaken out of his little trance, and reaches for the collar. He unbuckles it swiftly, fingers moving competently over the little buckle, and stretches out to place it around Dan’s neck.

Dan nearly gasps at the cool embrace of the collar around his throat, tilting his head to the side to give Phil more room to buckle it up. Phil slips two fingers beneath the collar once he’s done so, checking the fit, and Dan whines low in his throat to show his own approval. 

“Good pup,” Phil praises again, clearly happy with his inspection of the collar, and twists the collar smoothly around so that the buckle sits at the back of Dan’s neck. Dan shudders at the drag of the collar against his neck, the smooth glide pausing at a snug fit, a sensation he couldn’t ignore even if he wanted it, even if he tried. Finally, _finally_ the collar is set right, Dan’s wearing Phil's collar for the first time, a physical representation of what he means to Phil, what he is for Phil, and what Phil is to him, buckled snug around his throat. Dan settles back on his heels and stretches his neck to show it off for Phil, wishing he could see.

“Beautiful,” Phil tells him, and Dan can’t help but let out a little huff of dissatisfaction.

“Oh, you want to see?” Phil enquires after a moment’s deliberation, clearly trying to work out what Dan was thinking.

Dan just nods, words already feeling a little distant now he’s got the collar on. Somehow it’s taking up even more of his focus wrapped around his throat than it had when it was lying innocuously on Phil’s thigh and he couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Here you are, boy,” Phil turns his phone around, front camera on, so that Dan can see himself on screen. Dan’s breath catches at the sight of the dark band wrapped around his throat, a stark black line immediately calling the eye in contrast to his soft brown Yeezy jumper and pale skin. It’s the most vivid thing Dan can see despite its lack of colour, a mark of Phil’s ownership over him in this space, finally an undeniable visible sign of what they’re doing and the role he’s taking on. Dan swallows at the rush of emotion, Adam’s apple bumping against the collar, raising helpless eyes to Phil’s own.

“See?” Phil smiles gently, putting his phone down and reaching out with one hand to cup Dan’s face. “Such a beautiful pup,” he says tenderly, rubbing a thumb across the spot Dan’s dimple appears. Dan turns his head into Phil’s palm, rubbing his cheek against it to try and express the emotion thrumming through him as best he can without words. It’s not even a choice to maintain his headspace, at this point, Dan doesn’t think he could ever come up with words to describe how he was feeling if he tried. The simple physical affection of this role suits the situation far more, Dan rubbing his cheek against Phil’s knee briefly when Phil moves to put something mindless on TV. 

It’s routine, by now, that Dan will curl up at Phil feet as he settles into things, and it’s one Dan is happy to sink into. He presses himself firm against Phil’s calves as he does so, this time, quite possibly crushing his feet, but the brief pet Phil leans forward to deliver to Dan’s shoulder reassures Dan that he doesn’t really mind. Dan closes his eyes and allows himself to drift on the background noise of the TV as the warmth of Phil’s calves, soft comfort of his jumper, and - somehow both underlying and cutting through it all - ever present embrace of his collar provide a perfect secure backdrop in which to do so. 

Nothing can get to him now, pressed close against Phil and nestled into a corner. Anything he might have worried about earlier in the day fades away under the melting buzz soaking its way through his brain and body, concerns bouncing off the grounding line of Dan’s collar, Phil’s collar, that solid mark of their current status. 

Dan grunts a little as Phil leans forward, his legs shifting behind Dan, and reaches down to stroke gently across Dan’s hair then scritch behind his ear. 

“I need a drink before pizza, pup,” Phil says, sounding reluctant. “Just move a little for me, then you can settle down again and I’ll be right back.”

Dan hears the words, understands them somewhere above and through his current brain fog, but they don’t seem important. He _could_ settle down on his comfortable bed while Phil goes away, sure - he could even maybe try and sneak onto the sofa and hope Phil wouldn’t push him off on his return - or he could refuse to be separated from Phil for even a moment, and at the moment the choice is clear.

Dan moves away from Phil a little awkwardly and gets onto his hands and knees as Phil moves to stand, crawling around the coffee table past the fireplace.

“Oh, are you coming too?” Phil asks, clearly rhetorical, and Dan butts his head against his thigh in answer. Why would he ever want to be left behind? Phil runs his fingers lightly across Dan’s collar and he shivers, rubbing his head more firmly against Phil’s leg in return.

Dan follows Phil into the kitchen on his hands and knees, the tiles cold underneath his shins as he sits at Phil’s feet. It’s a little uncomfortable, especially as he settles onto his haunches and feels the cold radiating up to his thighs and backside. He finds he likes how it grounds him, a reminder as tangible as the collar around his throat of this thing he’s doing for Phil, with Phil, something to keep him floating away on the very feeling of being owned and the hazy headspace he’s aiming for.

Dan closes his eyes and leans a little against one of the cupboards as Phil putters around the kitchen, filling the kettle and retrieving a mug. He’s glad when Phil’s finally done and comes to stand by him, shifts to lean into Phil’s warm legs instead as Phil runs a gentle hand over his head.

“You look happy,” Phil says softly, and Dan whines in the back of his throat, pushes into Phil’s touch while keeping his cheek stuck firmly to Phil’s thigh. He is happy, or rather perfectly content, centered on the feel of his new collar, for once not drifting into worries about whatever video he probably should be making or editing at that moment, or how to maintain their current - amazing - level of success. With the collar occupying his mind he can’t think to worry about that, and a pup wouldn’t anyway. He’s Phil’s good boy at the moment, that’s all he is, and there’s no capacity for worry in that role - not for anything other than food or Phil going away, that is.

The kettle finally boils and Dan can’t help a rare discontented noise as Phil stops petting him in order to make his coffee, butting his head into Phil’s thigh harder than usual as a sign of disapproval, a call for attention. 

“Demanding tonight, aren’t you?” Phil teases, scratching behind Dan’s ear again before moving back through to the lounge.

Dan just continues to prove him right, settling on his cushion at Phil’s feet and perching his chin on Phil’s knee rather than curling up at his feet. It’s not that curled up at Phil’s feet isn’t a wonderful place to be, Dan knows it is, but today he’s feeling a little more needy. Something about the collar, tethering him to Phil, makes him want to feel that connection, need that attention, even more than usual. Phil reaches out to stroke Dan’s hair, long sure motions, smoothing down the nest of curls it’s turned into. 

Dan sighs, eyes fluttering shut, at the steady affection. He shifts to rub his cheek against the top of Phil’s thigh, his soft pajamas, repeating the motion when Phil just keeps petting gently along the side of his face. He drifts on the sensation, absorbed enough in his headspace to be content to wait patiently when Phil realises he does actually need his hand to drink his coffee, making a happy sound that’s almost a purr when Phil’s mug-warmed hand comes back to rest just above his collar.

“Good boy,” Phil murmurs, and Dan blushes with the intensity of his pleasure, the praise thrilling through him. 

Eventually the pizza arrives, the harsh sound of their doorbell startling Dan into sitting up with a surprised yip.

“Stay,” Phil orders, getting up to retrieve it, and Dan settles into a sitting position, butt on his heels and knuckles on the floor, waiting for Phil’s return.

It seems to take eons but the pizza smells glorious when Phil finally does return, setting it on the coffee table before going away again. Dan whines at his absence, but he had been told to stay.

 _Finally_ Phil returns, kitchen roll and a glass of water in hand. He sits next to Dan’s cushion and Dan leans in briefly to butt against Phil’s legs with his shoulder, a gentle greeting.

“Already sat ready for your food? Good boy,” Phil praises, opening the box and taking a slice out. 

He eats a little himself first, and Dan shuffles forwards until he can rest his chin on Phil’s knee and look up at him, begging with nothing more than his eyes and his body. It seems effective enough, Phil only managing one slice of his own pizza before tearing a bite sized piece off the next slice for Dan.

“Sit nicely,” he instructs, and Dan does, leaning backwards to sit as upright as he can manage while keeping his knuckles on the floor.

“Good pup,” Phil says. No matter how many times he tells Dan this is never fails to flood his body with a warm glow of satisfaction, the nickname just intensifying the praise, filling Dan with a shy yet strong pleasure in itself.

“Here we are then,” Phil almost sounds a little nervous as he holds the first bit of pizza to Dan’s lips, Dan opening his mouth to allow Phil to place it inside. He chews and swallows steadily, a low content sound punching out of him as the flavour of the cheese bursts on his tongue, maintaining eye contact with Phil, then lets his mouth drop open and tongue loll a little in a hopefully reassuring doggy smile.

Phil smiles back, reaching out to stroke Dan’s hair yet again. Dan pushes back into it slightly, his eyes fluttering closed. He snaps them open immediately when Phil’s hand retreats - one thing that has managed to penetrate his headspace was a low pang of hunger, while all his other worries had melted into insignificance, and now that the food is actually here Dan’s even more aware of it.

Dan allows that doggy smile to overtake his face again when he sees Phil immediately preparing his next mouthful for him, leaning forwards to take this one from Phil’s fingers experimentally, catching Phil’s fingertips as he closes his mouth around the morsel.

“Good boy,” Phil says, low, and that decides for Dan which method of feeding he prefers.

They settle into the meal, Phil taking his own bites while Dan chews. Dan catches Phil’s fingertips with gentle lips about on about three out of four mouthfuls, occasionally licking at his fingers little cheekily and delighted when it always produces the same surprised, soft laugh as its reward. The repetitive motions sink Dan further and further into the warm, gentle hum of his brain. He feels as heady and detached as if he’s had a couple of glasses of wine, but the space he finds himself in as a result is infinitely more wonderful. There are no racing concerns to occupy him, just a content buzz and the quiet ritual of accepting delicious food granted from Phil’s fingers. 

They’re most of the way through the pizza, Dan starting to feel contentedly full, when he leans forwards, overly eager, and ends up with pizza grease all over his cheek. He sits back abruptly, shaking his head and letting out a surprised huff as he wrinkles his nose.

Phil laughs gently at his reaction. “Silly pup,” he says, fond enough to make Dan ache a little, and beckons Dan forward again.

Dan leans forward trustingly, closing his eyes and opening his mouth for another piece of pizza, because clearly it’s better that Phil is trusted with every aspect of feeding him. He’s surprised when Phil’s hand grips his chin instead, and jerks back a little at the first a wet brush to his cheek.

“Shh,” Phil soothes, releasing Dan’s chin to pull him forward by the D ring on his collar in a movement that makes Dan catch his breath. Dan opens his eyes to see Phil wielding a wetted section of kitchen roll and sits obediently, heart in his throat, as Phil pets at his cheek in gentle sure strokes, cleaning him up.

“All better,” Phil decrees, leaning in quickly to kiss Dan’s now clean cheek. Dan couldn’t stop the low whine that bursts out of him for anything, leaning in to rub his cheek against Phil’s knee and wishing he could better express the utter sense of contentment and overwhelming love he feels could burst out of him right now. Dan’s eyes sting with tears as Phil reaches out to cup Dan’s cheek, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. 

“So good for me,” Phil says lowly, and doesn’t even flinch when Dan turns his head into Phil’s hand, butting against it and then licking tentatively at his palm, lost for any other way to express the aching emotion within himself. 

“Are you all done?” Phil asks when Dan resettles his chin on Phil’s knee, staring up at him and hoping he can convey any of the emotion he’s feeling right now with just his eyes.

Dan huffs an affirmative, trusting Phil to interpret.

“Up on the sofa then,” Phil invites, patting the space next to him.

Dan pauses for a moment, sure he’s misheard - normally he has to beg to be allowed on the sofa, though he does always get his way. He doesn’t waste any time when Phil pats the space next to him again, clambering up as quickly as he can. He butts his forehead against Phil’s shoulder when he’s finally on all fours on the couch, then leans in to rub his cheek across the top of Phil’s collarbone, nuzzling in close, his collar rubbing against Phil’s shoulder.

“Hello to you too,” Phil smiles, something Dan is close enough to feel rather than see, the same way he feels Phil’s voice rumbling in his throat.

Dan whines a little and butts gently at Phil’s chin, this time, giving it a quick affectionate lick before he’s quite realised what he’s doing. 

Phil laughs, so gentle and happy that Dan could never feel mocked. “Settle down,” he scolds lightly, patting his own thigh this time.

Dan does as instructed, backing away a little so he can curl up tightly with his head firmly on Phil’s lap, tucked closely enough in that his shoulders are almost on top of Phil’s thigh, too. He lets out a happy sigh when he’s finally settled, rubbing his cheek on the soft material of Phil’s pajamas.

“Good boy,” Phil praises, sounding a little choked.

Dan whines inquisitively, a little reluctant to move from the perfect position he’s in but turning over so he’s facing Phil nonetheless, needing to check on him. He finds Phil’s eyes a little wet looking, to match his choked voice, but his expression melts from a kind of desperate intensity to a clearly fond version as Dan looks up anxiously, and Dan finds his worry flutters away.

“You’re just too gorgeous,” Phil says ruefully, quirking a grin and reaching out to curl his fingers into the hair at the base of Dan’s skull. 

Dan huffs a little, for the first time wishing for words through the haze in his brain, and stretches out deliberately so Phil’s fingers bump against his collar.

“And all mine, yes,” Phil smiles softly, possibly a little wonderingly, as Dan gently butts forwards into his stomach in agreement. “Yes, that’s exactly it.” He drags his fingers across the collar, one, two, three times, before resettling his hand in Dan’s hair, stroking in small movements.

Dan closes his eyes, shuffling closer in to Phil now he doesn’t need to check on his expression. He closing his eyes to better appreciate the gentle stroking, the steady warmth suffusing his entire body and brain. 

“All mine,” Phil repeats, and Dan sighs contentedly. Yes, he is, and in that moment he can think of nothing that could possibly be better.

**Author's Note:**

> for those with questions about the tags: puppy play is a scenario in which one person takes on the role of a dog, and the other that of their owner. in this instance is it non sexual, and the fic mostly centres around subspace.
> 
> as always you can also find me on [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/nymeriahale) and [tumblr](http://internetakeover.tumblr.com)!


End file.
